


Over the Balustrade

by CantatriceX (Cantatrice18)



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Abuse, Drama, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Language, Nudity, Romance, Sensuality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-31
Updated: 2011-05-30
Packaged: 2017-10-19 16:10:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/202724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cantatrice18/pseuds/CantatriceX
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alois' attacks on Hannah go too far, and Claude is forced to help her recover. As he does, he discovers more about Hannah's past than he expected, and her reasons for staying in the Trancy household.</p><p>Slight AU - Hannah is not demonic. Her characterization is that of the first 5 episodes of Kuroshitsuji II.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Alois was being difficult again. He had already thrown a tantrum at breakfast over something, Claude couldn’t even remember what. His afternoon business meeting regarding his company’s finances had ended with him hurling papers across the room. Now he was berating the servants, commanding that his tea be served immediately, regardless of the fact that it was an hour before his usual teatime. Claude followed him up the stairs, inwardly wondering how much longer it would take to fulfill Alois's wish. He had long since tired of his young master, and wanted to devour the little monster’s soul so that he could move on.

They reached the second level and Alois stopped to peer over the balustrade at the ground below. He grinned as he saw Hannah rushing out of the kitchen, carrying a tray loaded with tea and scones. She made her way up the stairs to where Alois was waiting and stopped in front of him, head bowed. “Well, take it into my study, stupid girl!” Alois exclaimed.

“Yes, my lord”, Hannah murmured softly, hurriedly turning to go.

As she began to walk, Alois stuck out his leg and tripped her. The tray went flying out of her hands and she fell to her knees with a crash. “Hannah, you idiot, clean it up!” Alois cried, a nasty gleam in his eye.

As Hannah rushed to obey, frantically muttering apologies, Alois kicked her, hard, knocking her to the floor once more. She quickly scrambled to her feet, standing meekly in front of him. He advanced on her threateningly and she involuntarily took a step back, bumping up against the balustrade. That was all the provocation Alois needed and he scowled at her, grabbing her by the apron and yanking her towards him. “You are the most useless little tart I have ever laid eyes upon. The old Earl should have just discarded you when he was done with you, rather than making me put up with your clumsiness and idiocy. You deserve to be fed to my hounds, not to be going anywhere near my food - I’ll see to it that you never do again!”

Grinning murderously, he shoved her backwards with all his strength. Hannah, caught off guard, slammed up against the railing then, helped along by Alois, tumbled over it. Claude saw the look of terror on her face as she fell ten feet to the ground below. She landed with a horrible thud and lay unmoving. Alois leaned over the rail to admire his handiwork then, apparently bored with the sight, spun on his heels and sauntered towards the study. “Clean that up, will you Claude?” he said, motioning with a flick of his hand towards Hannah’s broken body. “And have those idiot triplets bring me my tea!”

Claude watched his master disappear out of sight, then strode down the stairs to where Hannah lay. He knelt at her side, checking for a pulse. It was weak, but present, and he felt a knot in his chest loosen. For some reason, he had been concerned. He did not stop to fathom his reaction, instead running careful hands down her body, checking the extent of her injuries. They were, as he had suspected, severe. Her right arm was shattered, broken in at least 6 places. No doubt she had landed on it in a vain attempt to break her fall. Three of her ribs were fractured, also on her right side. Her collarbone was broken on both sides, and she appeared to have dislocated her left knee. All in all, Claude mused, Alois had done quite a job on her, but it could have been much worse. He shuddered involuntarily as the image of Hannah with a broken neck flashed across his mind. Shaking his head to clear it, he gingerly picked her up off the floor and with long, even strides proceeded out of the room and down the hall. The servant’s wing was on the basement level, near the wine cellars. Claude rarely visited it. Being demonic had its advantages: he never needed to sleep. Instead he prowled the halls and grounds of the Trancy estate at night, checking for possible dangers as well as enjoying the quiet sounds of evening.

He found her room and used his set of master keys to open her door. The chamber was barren, containing only a small cot, a nightstand, and a clotheshorse. There was no wardrobe, and Claude suspected that the only dress she owned was the one she wore. He laid her down on the cot and knelt beside her. The knee took only a moment to set back in place. Stretching out her arm, he began the delicate work of realigning her bones. It was difficult, as the bones were in such small pieces, but his advanced sense of touch allowed him to shape them once more into a straight line. With a grimace, he realized that he’d forgotten to bring anything to splint the arm with. Looking around, he spotted the nightstand. He removed the drawer, quickly discarding its few contents, and broke it into pieces that he could use to keep her arm straight. Taking a small pair of scissors from his breast pocket he cut her sleeve along the seam line, allowing him access to her bare arm. He began to slice her sheets into strips that could be easily tied, and made a mental note to replace both the drawer and the sheets, preferably before she woke up. A small voice inside his head added “and preferably of better quality”, but he shoved the voice aside and continued with his work. With a final knot, her arm was neatly (if not beautifully) splinted, and Claude moved on.

There was little he could do about the collarbone breaks; she would just have to rest and see how they healed. He might devise a sling for her later, he reflected. He turned to the larger problem: her ribs. He needed clear access to them, and her corset was in the way. He reached towards her with the scissors, but stopped short as he recalled his earlier observation. He was reluctant to completely destroy her only piece of clothing, even if he did repair it afterwards. With an inward sigh, he reached around her, carefully sitting her up straight and undoing the buttons on her dress with one hand. The apron he tossed aside. He felt no qualms about cutting through the ties of her corset; they were only strings, and he could replace them in an instant. Carefully, he slid her dress and corset off of her, leaving her torso exposed, then inhaled sharply. Each of her ribs was visible through the skin, with a sharp drop at the end of her ribcage to her stomach. It was plain that she was badly malnourished, and Claude thought darkly of Alois; it would be just like the boy to deprive Hannah of food. Returning his thoughts to the problem before him, Claude ran his hands slowly along her ribcage. It wasn’t as bad as it could have been, he reasoned. The fractures had not seriously displaced her ribs, and should be able to heal on their own, as long as she didn’t exert herself too much. Her entire body would be covered in bruises by the next day, he predicted, but considering the height of her fall she was in remarkably good condition. Claude wondered why this pleased him so much; surely it was nothing to him whether this maid lived or died. He gazed back down at her and realized that his hands were still on her bare chest. Yanking them away as though he had been burned, Claude turned to leave, but stopped suddenly. He felt like he was missing something, something important. He gazed around the room, skipping hurriedly over the prostrate form of the woman on the bed, then realized with a jolt what was absent. The room had no hearth. There was no stove either, no source of heat at all. Normally immune to cold, Claude allowed himself to reach out and feel the temperature. With evening fast approaching, the room was chilly and, even worse, damp. A tiny window, the only one in the room, was situated above the bed, and Claude could see that one of the panes of glass was broken, allowing the outside air to penetrate the room. The last thing Hannah needed was to catch pneumonia in this squalid place. Claude crossed back to the bed and took Hannah in his arms. He realized, uncomfortably, that she was still half naked, and fumbled to replace her dress over her chest. Then he strode out of the room, up two flights of stairs and into the guest wing.

The guest wing was hardly ever used, though it was kept spotless by Claude and the other servants. It wasn’t often that other people would voluntarily spent the night in Alois’ house, but the wing was kept ready for any eventuality. Claude chose the room farthest from the main hall. With luck, Alois would never find out that Hannah had been here. He entered the room and laid her on the four-post bed, then lit the fireplace and lamps. Turning to the wardrobe, he pulled out the spare nightdress that was kept inside for unexpected guests. With steady hands he slipped the gown over her head, then pulled on the skirt of her dress, letting it slide off of her legs and onto the floor. For the first time Hannah uttered a sound, a tiny moan of pain that sent a dart of heat through Claude’s chest. He pulled the blankets over her, making sure they covered her completely. Reluctant to leave, he knelt beside her and began to unbraid her hair, smoothing out what tangles there were and let it fall to frame her face. Then, impulsively and without letting his thoughts get in the way, he leaned over and kissed her tenderly on the lips. At once his inner demon began admonishing him, deriding his weakness. He spun on his heel, practically running to the door, and stopped only to extinguish the lamps, He gave one look back at the sleeping woman, then shut the door behind him and walked stiffly down the hallway towards the main portion of the house. “She’ll be alright”, he thought curtly, and as he reached the stairs the tiny voice inside his head whispered, “I’ll make sure of it”.


	2. Chapter 2

Alois had long since gone to bed, but Claude was not making his usual tour of the grounds. Instead he was on the lower level of the manor, in the servant’s wing. He had just finished replacing Hannah’s sheets and was now fixing the nightstand that he had, just hours ago, used to splint Hannah’s arm. The main frame of the thing was intact, but the drawer had been reduced to tiny shards. He had brought tools and some extra wood down with him, deftly constructing a new drawer that perfectly matched the old one, down to the knots in the wood. With any luck, Hannah would never even notice the substitution. He knelt to gather the few things that had fallen out of the drawer earlier. A small box lay half open, its contents spilling out onto the floor. He saw a beaded necklace, some ornamental pins, and a few embroidered handkerchiefs. He replaced them in the box, wondering as he did so why Hannah had never worn the jewelry. At the very least, she could have sold it. The necklace looked well made, though it certainly wasn’t the sort of thing an aristocrat would be seen wearing. She could have gotten enough money to help buy another dress, at least.

The other object was a letter. He reached for it, intending to tuck it back into the drawer, but stopped when he got a better look at the writing. The script was rudimentary, scrawled across the page in an unsteady hand. Claude surmised that the writer was none too familiar with the use of a pen. Yet had the letter been written in the finest aristocratic lettering, it still would have been nearly illegible, for the paper itself was so worn and dirty that the words were often indiscernible. Claude could not stop himself from perusing its contents, wondering how old it was and who had sent it. He scanned the top few lines, and made out the words “My dear Hannah”. Leaning forward, he tried to read more. “I pray that you will someday forgive us for this. Earl Trancy is an honorable man, and will treat you kindly. We care for you - “ Here the text became unreadable, but cleared up later in the line. “- take you with us. Your father – “ again the text became obscured by dirt, and by water stains that Claude suspected were from Hannah’s tears. Much of the rest of the letter was too smudged to read, and Claude made out only a few words: “job”, “sailing”, “papers”, and “Hannah” were visible. The final line of text, “ - send for you when we can”, was followed by a careful signature: Caroline Annafellows.

Claude felt numb as he stared at the letter. He knew that Hannah had been at the house when he'd arrived, and that she’d served under the previous Earl Trancy, but he’d never thought that her reason for staying was that her family had abandoned her. He glowered darkly at the letter. Her parents obviously hadn’t bothered to ask any of the villagers about Earl Trancy, or they’d have learned of his reputation as a lecher, and one that used his cane quite liberally on the servants. Disgusted, he shoved the letter into the drawer and closed it roughly. Stalking out of the room, he became lost in his own thoughts, and without him even noticing his feet led him up the stairs to the guest wing where Hannah lay sleeping. He stood outside her door for a moment, then noiselessly entered and walked over to the bed. He sat next to her, being careful not to wake her, and gently felt her forehead for any signs of fever. She seemed all right, though he knew that the danger of infection was far from over. She still had yet to regain full consciousness. He made a quick check of her splint, and was satisfied with his handiwork. Walking to the fireplace, he stoked the coals quietly. He tried to distract himself with a new scheme whereby Alois could trap Ciel Phantomhive, but he couldn’t get the words of the letter out of his head. The small snippets of text ran through his mind over and over, coupled with images of a young Hannah, sad and alone.

So lost was he in his own brooding that he almost missed the whisper from the bed: “Claude…”

He turned and was by the bedside in an instant. She was still asleep, but she murmured his name several more times, her voice pleading. He sat next to her on the bed once more and laid his hand on her uninjured arm. She slowly awakened, taking a few, shallow breaths before noticing Claude’s presence. The breath caught in her throat; her face went pale and she tried to scramble upright.

“No, don’t – “ he commanded, but was cut off by her cry of pain.

He gently grasped her shoulders, leaning over her as he settled her back onto the pillows. Her breathing came fast now - too fast. She was hyperventilating, her expression still terrified as she stared up at him. Claude was torn between two desires. The demon in him had grudgingly accepted his physical attraction to the woman and now ordered him to act on it quickly, as she was injured and couldn’t resist him. But his lust was tempered by a strange desire to protect her. He released her shoulders and sat back, giving her space as she looked around in frightened confusion. “It’s alright, Hannah” he told her evenly, almost coldly. “I’m not going to hurt you."

Her gaze continued to dart around the room, and Claude realized what she was searching for. “He’s not here. It’s the middle of the night, and he’s long since gone to bed.”

She froze, head bowed so that she didn't have to look at him, then asked hesitantly, “What happened to me?"

Claude calmly explained the day’s events, from the moment she fell over the balustrade to the splinting of her arm in her bedroom downstairs. He hesitated for a moment, wondering whether he should tell her about the nightstand and the items inside. “But why am I… here?” she said dazedly, gesturing weakly at the sumptuous furnishings.

He felt heat rising to his face, but he quashed it and related his reasons for moving her to the warmer, drier room in the guest wing. As he did so he noticed that she was shaking, and tucked the coverlet more firmly around her. She blushed slightly, then more as she realized what she was wearing. She glanced around the room searching for her dress, then returned her gaze to the floor when she saw no sign of it. “Why?” she whispered, her face the picture of misery.

Claude was taken aback. “What do you mean, why?”

“Why did you do this?” she said, wincing as she motioned towards her body with her free arm. “My lord wanted me to die. Surely taking care of me is against his orders.”

Despair radiated from her and Claude could not stop himself from saying softly, “I wanted you to live."

She looked up at him, startled. To Claude's shock he found himself asking her about the box and the letter. She blushed once more, but was unable to break away from his gaze. She hesitated, then sighed, grimacing at the pain in her ribs. “The box was given to me by my mother. The contents were hers, but she wanted me to have them before she left. As for the letter… I was 10. My father was a mill worker. The factory shut down, and no one else would hire him. We were already poor, and so my parents made the only decision they could. They used what little they had to buy passage on a ship to Canada. They’d heard there were better opportunities for work there, and less discrimination against foreigners.”

She looked away for a moment, then slowly turned back to him, her face blank and distant as she remembered the past. “My parents searched for someone, anyone, to take me in. Finally my father found Earl Trancy. He was visiting some other noblemen in the country, a hunting party I think. He agreed to take me back to London with him, provided he needn’t pay me any wages for my service. My father promised that he would return for me, or to send money for my passage as soon as he could, so that I wouldn’t be a burden on the Earl. The next evening, my parents took me to the lodge where the Earl was staying. My mother gave me the letter and the little box, telling me to open them once I reached London. Then they left.”

Hannah broke away from Claude’s gaze, her face red with embarrassment. Claude felt cold as he remembered what he’d seen of the last Earl’s behavior regarding children. Hannah’s journey would not have been a pleasant one.

He forced those thoughts away, and asked gently “Did you hear from them again, once they’d arrived in Canada?”

He knew the answer already, or so he thought. If she’d received another letter, she’d have kept it with the first. Hannah went completely still. Claude leaned forward, concerned, but then Hannah spoke in a deadened voice. “They never arrived.” She gritted her teeth, but continued. “My lord the Earl called me into his study one evening, not long after we’d reached the house. He was grinning, chuckling occasionally as he looked at me. He asked me if I knew what ship my parents were on. I told him I did, and that they’d told me they’d picked that ship for luck. He broke into peals of laughter, and shoved the evening newspaper under my nose. He saw I was confused, and so he read aloud, ‘Ship strikes iceberg in the Gulf of St. Lawrence, 49 killed.’ He leered at me and mocked me, saying ‘not such a lucky ship after all then, was it Hannah? Your father won’t be coming back for you, not in this life anyway!’ I think I fainted then. I can’t remember anything until the next morning, when I awoke in the servant’s wing.”

Claude could see that her control was slipping, but he needed to know the last piece of the story. “When was this? What ship were they on?”

He knew instantly that he’d pushed her over the edge. Her self-discipline collapsed, and she began to cry uncontrollably, her emotional pain matched by her physical pain as her fractured ribs jarred. Claude shifted her on the bed, raising her to a sitting position and moving behind her so that her head lay against his chest. He let her cry, holding her body in place as best he could so that she wouldn’t damage her ribs or collarbone further. As her sobs began to subside, he gently pushed her hair back from her forehead. She turned to him, tears still flowing unchecked down her face, and said heartbrokenly, “Hannah. They chose the ship named Hannah.”

She curled against his chest and he held her as she cried her heart out, for her parents and for the hell they’d unknowingly put her in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The passenger ship Hannah did, indeed, sink off the coast of Quebec in 1849. The shipwreck became famous for the cowardice of the captain. Upon realizing that the hull was breached, the captain and his two first officers fled in the ship’s only lifeboat, leaving the rest of the crew and the ship’s immigrant passengers to fend for themselves. Forty-nine people died.


	3. Chapter 3

Claude crept out of Hannah’s room as dawn was just beginning to break. She had cried most of the night, finally sleeping out of sheer exhaustion. He felt a cold, empty sensation as he thought of her life as an orphaned child in the Trancy household. Then he shook himself, his demon nature rising to the forefront. Hannah was not his primary concern. His duty was to his master, until such time as the contract was fulfilled; if Alois wanted to torture his maid, Claude had no reason to intervene. It was to his advantage if Alois became as twisted and sadistic as possible - each crime Alois committed only added to the succulent taste of his soul. Claude fiercely drove all thoughts of the sleeping woman out of his mind and glided swiftly down the stairs to prepare for the day ahead.

Claude’s resolve was tested that very morning. Alois had been his usual contrary self as Claude had dressed him, kicking off one shoe as Claude laced the other, et cetera. He had danced into the breakfast room, pirouetting around the triplets then attacking his food like a rabid dog, all manners discarded. Claude stood a few feet away from him, bored. His thoughts were interrupted by Alois’ voice, sugar sweet as it called to him. “Claude,” the boy asked innocently, “Where is Hannah?”

Everyone in the room froze. “Your highness,” Claude responded stiffly, “She is still resting from her fall yesterday.”

“Still in bed, at this hour?” Alois cried, pouting. “That girl is incurably lazy. Something should be done about that.” He smiled suddenly up at Claude, and Claude could see the threads of a new idea working their way into the boy’s mind. “I suppose I’ll just have to go wake her then!”

He leapt out of his chair, knocking it over, and ran to the door. Then he paused, and snapped his fingers. “Claude, take me to her,” he commanded. Reluctantly, Claude led him up the stairs to the guest wing. Alois frowned and demanded to know why she wasn’t in the servant’s quarters downstairs. Claude thought quickly, and replied, “I thought that this room would give her better access to the upper wings of the house. I didn’t want her shirking her duties, and I felt that cleaning, dusting and scrubbing every room in the wing would teach her a lesson. I hope you agree.”

Alois visibly brightened, and he grinned as he contemplated Claude’s response. “She deserves that, she’s such a bumbling fool. ‘Yes my lord, no my lord’“ he chanted, crudely imitating the way Hannah bowed to him. He laughed, then stopped as he reached the door to her room. Glancing gleefully at Claude, he opened the door and crept over to the bed. Hannah lay curled up where Claude had left her. Tear tracks still stained her cheeks, and her long hair wove across her face and body like a net. Alois reached towards her and brushed the strands away from her face. Claude felt the sudden urge to slap Alois’ hands away from her, but quickly repressed it. Alois turned his head and laid it next to hers on the pillow, his eyes mere inches from hers. “Hannah,” he called in a singsong voice. ”O Hannah, it’s time to wake up now, little Hannah."

Claude saw her shift slightly, then her eyelids fluttered open. As the boy before her came into focus she started, then scrambled back, only to grimace in pain and lie still. “Well now, how are you feeling today Hannah?” Alois asked patronizingly.

“F-fine, my lord. I’m fine.”  
Her eyes darted around the room, looking for any escape, then saw Claude standing behind Alois. He could easily read the panic and fear in her gaze.

Alois was examining the splint on her arm. Abruptly, he poked her hard near the elbow. Hannah concealed a slight wince as Alois asked, “Did that hurt?”

She slowly shook her head, gaze lowered. Alois turned triumphantly back to Claude. “There now, you see? She isn’t injured, she’s just a lazy slut who should get back to work!” and before Claude could react he had grasped Hannah’s injured arm and yanked her roughly off the bed.

She screamed in tortured agony and in a flash Claude was beside her, catching her before she hit the ground and forcefully removing her arm from Alois’ grip. The boy looked startled at Claude’s behavior. Personally, Claude didn’t blame him. Straightening up, he said in the most subservient way possible, “I will see to it that she troubles you no further, your highness. Rest assured, she will be back to work immediately.”

Alois tossed his head arrogantly, his nose in the air. “I’ll trust her punishment to you then, Claude. Make sure she works harder than she’s ever worked in her life.” He spun and marched imperiously out of the room.

Claude gazed down at the girl in his arms. She had fainted from the pain, and he took advantage of her state to check on her splint. He had done his work well: the splint had stayed in place, protecting the line of the healing bones. He heard her groan, and swiftly propped her up on pillows so that she was sitting upright in bed. She slowly regained consciousness and stared straight ahead of her. Claude laid a hand on her uninjured arm, and she turned her head to look at him. She was shaking, and she looked defeated. Claude sighed inwardly. His demonic nature was just going to have to adjust. Though he knew most demons saw humans as nothing more than a food source, he couldn’t view Hannah as just another pawn. He had tried and failed to ignore his reactions to her presence, but each time he felt the fragile softness of her body or saw her emotions written plainly on her face, darts of heat pierced his chest. It wasn’t unheard of for a demon to take a human to bed with him: desire was a perfectly reasonable response to the sight of a beautiful woman. He refused to think that she could mean more to him than that: one thing at a time. He realized, suddenly, that she must be hungry. She hadn’t eaten since the afternoon before, and he suspected from her thin frame that she hadn’t eaten very much then. Reluctantly, he released her arm and rose to his feet. “Rest, Hannah. I’ll get you some food.”

He returned a few minutes later carrying a silver tray. Removing the cover he revealed a glass of milk, a fried egg, 2 strips of bacon, and several pieces of toast slathered in jam. He had restrained himself, barely, from piling the tray with every scrumptious thing he saw. He wanted her to recover quickly, not just from her injuries but from the slow starvation Alois had forced upon her. She moved to get up, but he motioned her back down and carefully rested the tray on her knees. Pulling a chair over from the far corner of the room, he sat beside her. She ate slowly and carefully, her hands still shaking from her ordeal with Alois. After only a few bites she laid the knife and fork on the tray and looked down. “Please sir, if I could know what you would have me do?” she whispered. He looked confused, and so she added “What tasks would you like me to perform? Which rooms would you like me to clean?”

He realized, with a pang, that she had believed what he’d said to Alois, and thought that he was waiting in order to mete out her punishment. He slowly shook his head. “Hannah, there is no way you can work. Your ribs and collarbone won’t allow you any sort of labor, and even if they did your arm would prevent you from doing the labor well.” He grimaced inwardly, kicking himself for his lack of tact. “What I mean to say is, you’d be in too much pain.”

She looked at him, surprised. “But master Alois… what will he say?”

The fear in her voice made Claude suspect that she was more concerned about what Alois would do, and how brutal the boy's punishment would be. “I’ll take care of it.”

It was Hannah’s turn to be confused. He looked calmly at her. “I’ll make sure that all of the work you’d normally do is done. There will be nothing for the master to complain about, and no need for him to know who actually performed the tasks.”

She stared at him. “But all the cleaning…the serving…everything…it’s too much, too much for one person to take on!”

Surprised and touched by her concern, he reached out and gently took her hand in his. “I’ll manage,” he said dryly. She had no idea how fast he was capable of moving: her tasks wouldn’t take him more than half an hour, at the most. “The only task I have for you is to recover.”

He stood and drew nearer to where she sat on the bed. She still wore a look of confusion, but murmured hesitantly, “Thank you."

He couldn’t help himself. He leaned over her and brought his mouth to hers, kissing her tenderly. For a moment, it seemed like she kissed him back: her body relaxed, and her head tilted upwards towards his. Then suddenly she stiffened, every bit of her going rigid. He jerked back and, seeing the horror-struck look on her face, felt a wave of guilt and self reproach wash over him as he realized the enormity of his error. By telling her that he would take care of all her duties in the house, then kissing her unexpectedly, she had wrongly concluded that he was only helping her on the condition that she give him her body in exchange. Her injuries made it even more frightening for her – she had no way to work, and therefore no way to escape his grasp. She couldn’t refuse his help, or Alois would doubtless return with murderous intentions. By the same stroke her weakened body made her powerless to resist his desires. The demon inside him roared in approval, ordering him to take the frightened girl here and now, and to use her at his will. He forced himself to back away slowly, only stopping when he reached the door. She still stared straight ahead, her body trembling so much the tray on her lap clattered audibly. Claude couldn’t find the words to explain to her what he’d actually meant by the kiss. He barely knew himself. Desperate to get out of the situation, he said coldly, “Goodbye, Hannah” and left in a rush. Thoughts racing and uncomfortable emotions flooding his system, he walked swiftly away.


	4. Chapter 4

Claude avoided Hannah’s room for the rest of the day. He kept himself busy; Alois’ schedule had been full of events. They had visited a local nobleman, stopped in the village to feign interest in the people’s concerns, and met with a lackey from his corporation to sort out shipping details. All in all, it was a productive day. The constant travel and influx of new people kept Claude preoccupied, and it was only in his moments of inactivity that he found images of Hannah’s horrified expression circling in his mind. He put it off as much as he could, but after supper that evening he could no longer refrain from visiting her. With a surge of guilt, he realized that she’d had nothing to eat since the breakfast tray that morning. He berated himself for being so careless as to let his discomfort get in the way of her recovery. Quickly gathering some of the leftover food from the kitchen, he walked reluctantly up to Hannah’s room. Pausing at the door, he sighed, then raised his hand and knocked. He waited for her soft response of “Come in” before opening the door.

She was sitting up in bed and had been toying with a piece of scrap paper, folding it into shapes. At Claude’s approach she dropped the paper and started to tense up, but she met his eyes as he set the tray down next to her. “You must be hungry,” he said, more forcefully than he’d intended. “You haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

She glanced the tray, then back up at him. He could tell this wasn’t going to be easy. She’d had all day to solidify the impression she’d gotten of him that morning, and he would be hard put to convince her that he wasn’t a blackmailing womanizer. He composed himself then, not looking at her, said quietly, “I apologize.”

He felt, rather than saw her surprise, but when he looked up he found her eying him guardedly. He took a deep breath, and continued, “It was not my intention to startle you like that. I wasn’t implying - … I know it might have seemed - … “ He paused, struggling for the right words. “I wouldn’t want you to misconstrue my actions. I do not intend to exact a price for aiding you; I only want you to rest with as little interruption as possible while your body mends. I will make no demands or advances on you that you do not desire.”

He looked up once more, and this time her expression was more open, though still cautious. “Why, then?” she asked. “Why did you…kiss me?”

He winced inwardly. It wasn’t as though he hadn’t expected the question, but he still wasn’t quite sure of his answer. “I…wanted to.”

Well that wasn’t very helpful, his inner voice remarked, but Claude took a breath and continued. “I’ve wanted to for a while. When you…when he pushed you over that balustrade I thought you’d died, and it was the first time I realized that I cared what happened to you. The more I learned about you – “ he saw that she was blushing, and it was obvious that she was remembering their conversation the previous night, “the more time I spent around you, the more I wanted to kiss you, to hold you. But I would never be so thoughtless as to force myself upon you. I want you to heal. I want you to be safe, be happy.” He did not say that he wanted to be the one keeping her safe and making her happy. He didn’t need to.

She looked up at him, a tiny smile appearing on her lips. “I’ve wanted…I care for you as well. I never thought you’d even noticed me. I tried to stay away from you because I thought that you found me tiresome. And I hated it when – “ She paused and looked down, the misery returning her face. “I’ve hated it every time the master punishes me in front of you. He has the right to do what he likes with me, but to have you watching hurts more than anything he could do. I thought that you agreed with him that I was useless and didn’t deserve to live.” A single tear ran down her cheek, but she brushed it away impatiently and continued. “It seems impossible that you could care for me at all. This morning…I wasn’t afraid that you would keep kissing me. I was afraid you would stop when you realized that I was kissing you back.”

She was trembling again, but differently this time, as though she was afraid to give in to her excitement for fear that it would be snatched away at the last moment. Claude sat beside her on the bed, then leaned forward, resting one hand on the back of her neck. Running a gentle finger over her mouth, he asked “May I?”

She shook her head, and he drew back, startled and confused. She reached for him, took his head in her hands, and kissed him, desperately lingering over his lips as though frightened he'd disappear. He responded, deepening their connection until she was forced to break away, gasping for air and wincing at the twinges of pain from her ribs. He ached for her but, reminding himself of her injuries, restrained himself from taking her then and there. Instead he moved to kissing her neck, then her shoulders, breathing in the scent of her body. As he began to undo the buttons on her nightdress she stirred, reaching for him, but he rested a soft hand on her arm and she lay still once more. He revealed only her torso, for he knew that if he were presented with her entire body he would be unable to stop himself from ravishing her. He moved slowly, kissing her skin in a straight line from her injured collarbone down between her breasts to her stomach. He longed to go further, but instead moved up to her breasts, kissing slow circles around them. As he reached her nipples, he flicked his tongue out, and she shuddered with pleasure beneath him. He worshiped her body, kissing and tasting as much of her as he could reach, until he returned to her lips. Then he kissed her once more, this time tasting inside of her as she melted against him, trembling with desire. Grudgingly, he released her. It was past midnight, and she needed to sleep if she was ever going to regain her health. The longing in her gaze nearly broke his resolve, but he gently untwined her arms from around him and laid her back on the pillows. “Rest now, Hannah,” he said as he extinguished the lamps. “We have all the time in the world.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS MILD (NON-PENETRATIVE) SEXUAL ASSAULT. IN ADDITION, CANONICAL AND NON-EXPLICIT REFERENCES ARE MADE TO PAST CHILD ABUSE.

The next two weeks were difficult for Claude and Hannah. Though Claude made sure to perform all of her chores and duties, Alois seemed to suspect that something was amiss. He demanded Hannah be present at every meal and serve him every dish herself. Claude had been forced to remove her splint in order to keep up the charade of her quick recovery. He had constructed a sling that simultaneously protected her arm and stabilized her collarbone, but there was nothing he could do to fully protect her from Alois. One evening at supper Hannah struggled to pour the boy's wine, and he stared at her, eyes wide. “Why Hannah,” he exclaimed, false concern in his voice, “you seem to be having some trouble. Perhaps you are still injured. Or perhaps you are only pretending to be."

He slapped her across the cheek, and she took a step back, losing her balance. Claude moved behind her to keep her from falling, and Alois’ eyes narrowed ominously as he watched them. “Come up to my bedroom in an hour, Hannah. It’s time to see just how injured you are.”

As Alois turned away, Hannah and Claude exchanged worried glances. There was no doubt that Alois intended to punish Hannah, as he always did, but Claude suspected that his abuse of her would be harsher than normal. Alois had been watching their movements closely, and had no doubt seen the change in their relationship. Claude could only try to hide the true depth of his feelings for her. He'd spent every night in her room since they had confessed how they felt to one another. As her body regained its strength his attentions had grown bolder, and they’d reveled in each other’s caresses. Now each time she looked at him he felt his bond to her deepen. He knew he should detach himself from her. She was, after all, supposed to be nothing more than his bed-warmer. At night, after she had gone to sleep, he lay beside her, wondering how he was even capable of having feelings for her. He was a heartless, immortal creature of darkness. His duty was to ensnare humans into making contracts with him, only to feast upon them when the contract was complete. Surely his attachment to her was impossible. And yet, when he saw the faint smile that played across her lips as she slept, he felt as though nothing else mattered.

But there was no way he could let Alois know that. The boy had contracted him, and relied on him to do whatever task was necessary in order to achieve revenge. He would react violently if he suspected them, and Claude was certain that most of his wrath would be directed at Hannah. Claude hoped that he would be able to control himself. His urge to protect Hannah was strong, but his contract still bound him to Alois. He could only hope that it would never come to a choice between the two.

Claude spent the next hour trying to placate Alois as best he could, but to no avail. Alois paced the floor of his room, stopping every time he thought he heard a noise. When Hannah finally arrived he said curtly, “You’re late.”

She looked at the floor, and Claude could tell that she was nervous.

“Strip, Hannah," the boy commanded, and she couldn’t stop her gaze from flicking over to where Claude stood. Alois saw the look and frowned. Then all at once he grinned and a wicked gleam came into his eye. "No, I’ve got a better idea. Claude, “ he said, turning to his butler, “you strip her.”

Hannah gasped and Claude concealed his shock as he walked over to stand in front of her. He struggled to keep his face impassive as he removed her apron and, with tender hands, reached around her and began to undo the buttons on her dress. She met his eyes and he tried to comfort her silently. Her dress fell to the floor and she stood before them. She was still unable to wear her corset due to her ribs, and so she was naked to the waist, wearing only a half-slip and knee-high stockings.

Alois shoved Claude aside, then pulled Hannah over to the side of the bed. “Sit”, he commanded, and she obeyed, looking at the floor once more. He roughly pushed her back so that she lay with her feet dangling off of the bed. Situating himself between her knees, he reached forward and ran his hands across her collarbone, moving downwards to feel along her ribs. She trembled, then involuntarily looked over at Claude. He held her gaze, trying to reassure her as best he could while inwardly cursing Alois. The boy moved his hands downward, pushing her slip up around her hips. Hannah gave a soft cry and Claude shifted slightly. The boy saw where she was looking, and he sneered as he eyed Claude. His grin became sadistic, and he stuck his tongue out so that the mark of his contract was clearly visible. Then, staring at his butler the entire time, he ran his tongue along the inside of Hannah’s thigh.

Something inside Claude snapped. He stopped caring about the contract, stopped caring about anything but Hannah’s fear and humiliation. Before he knew it he had swept her off the bed and into his arms, knocking Alois over in the process. He held her close to his chest. She was still rigid from the shock of the boy’s tongue on her skin. He ran a finger gently down her cheek, and she looked up at him in surprise as she realized where she was. Alois lay stunned on the floor, then jumped to his feet and yelled furiously, “Claude bring her here, she’s mine and I’ll do what I like with her!”

Claude stared at him coldly and slowly shook his head. Alois took a step back, and a look of uncertainty flashed across his face, but he quickly regained his composure and said imperiously, “You have a contract with me, and I command you to drop her!”

Instead, Claude gently placed her on her feet and stood next to her as he replied “I have a contract with her as well.”

Alois looked surprised and alarmed, and yelled (with a hint of trepidation in his voice), “You can’t possibly have two contracts at the same time - No one is allowed to serve two masters!”

“My contract with her is different,“ Claude replied. “She is not my master, nor I hers. We are equal to one another. The contract I have with her is one of marriage.”

A stunned silence filled the room. Claude had no idea why he’d said such a thing. He hadn’t thought it through, and problems immediately began to invade his mind. For one thing, she had no idea that he was a demon. For another, no other demon would respect him if he married his human lover. They might even hunt him down, concluding that he was weak and foolish, easily gotten rid of. And then there was the matter of his contract. Despite what he told Alois, his contract was still an unbreakable bond, and he had to follow his master’s commands. It had taken all the strength he possessed to defy Alois’ last order, and he’d ended up setting her down anyway, though not as violently as he was commanded to. If Alois called his bluff and ordered him to kill Hannah, there was little he could do to resist. But what was done was done. And despite his reservations, as he looked at Hannah’s expression of surprise and wonder he felt a warm sensation enter his chest. No matter what happened now Hannah would be his, and at the mere thought of it he felt the warm feeling grow and flood out into his body, a wave of heat and desire.

Alois was the first to recover from the shock. His face contorted with rage, but then he began to laugh, softly at first, then growing in volume as he stared at the pair of them. “You want to marry that, that thing?” he cried spitefully. “Oh you poor, gullible fool, taken in by that conniving little whore. She’s quite the charmer, isn’t she?”

Claude stared at him, his blank face hiding his sudden apprehension. “At least, the Earl thought so,” Alois continued, “She was his favorite plaything, but she was no innocent. She was his accomplice!”

Claude felt all the warmth vanish from his body. He looked at Hannah, but she refused to meet his gaze, instead staring at the floor. A thread of doubt worked its way into his mind. Alois’ eyes fell on Hannah, and his mouth curled in vindictive pleasure. “She was his procurer. She brought him his victims, all scrubbed clean and ready to be used. She is as twisted and perverted as he was.”

At this, Hannah shuddered, her face going red. Claude stared at her. Surely this couldn’t be true. But her blush, and the way she refused to look at him, told him more than enough. He finally understood why Alois took such pleasure in tormenting her: she was partly responsible for his torture at the hands of the Earl. Alois walked towards her, relishing her humiliation, and continued ruthlessly, “Well, Hannah? Tell him. Tell him of the boys you brought the Earl, and the girls as well. Tell him how you walked them down the long hallway to his bedroom, never once letting them know what horrors were in store for them. Tell him, Hannah!”

She could stand it no longer. She ran to the door, yanking it open and disappearing through it, a choked sob echoing back into the room. Claude stood frozen in place. He felt cold and numb. He exited slowly through the doorway, moving as though he were sleepwalking. The last sight he saw as he left the room was Alois standing triumphant, his vengeful task complete.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS NON-EXPLICIT REFERENCES TO PAST SEXUAL ABUSE AND TORTURE, INCLUDING CANONICAL REFERENCES TO THE ABUSE OF MINORS.

Claude walked the halls of the manor, completely unaware of his surroundings. He was trapped in his own thoughts, seeing the scene in Alois’ bedroom over and over: the flush mantling Hannah’s cheeks as Alois denounced her crimes; the cruel bite to the boy’s words as the source of his grudge against her became clear; the way she’d run frantically from the room, her guilt and depravity made known. He asked himself how he could have been so blind as to be taken in by her. He wondered, with a shudder, how many others she’d held in her arms, and if the Earl’s victims had fallen prey to her lust as well. Disgusted, he took out a handkerchief and wiped his mouth with it. He wanted to erase the taste of her body from his lips, but nothing could. He knew now why he had felt such an animal attraction to her: her soul must be ripe and luscious with so much perversion. Despite that, he felt no urge to devour her. He didn’t want to have her become a part of him, didn’t want to taste her sweetness, knowing what corruption it concealed. She had felt so innocent, lying in his arms. He had protected her, and in return she had used him, concealing from him her true, abhorrent nature.

A sudden thought made his wrath ebb slightly. He had, after all, concealed his true nature from her as well. Surely her betrayal had been no less than his. The rationality of this was enough to stem his anger, but his pain continued, this time layered with self-reproach at his weakness. He had acted the fool, believing the things she’d said and looking no further. He deserved this pain: he’d done nothing to avoid it. As he walked past the entrance hall, he heard the sounds of hysterical crying. He paused for only a moment, then walked on. She could shed as many false tears as she liked - he would not be the one to give her comfort. Behind him, the sounds suddenly ceased. He halted, an unexpected shiver of apprehension causing all the hair on his arms to stand up. Turning, he silently opened one of the doors to the hall.

Hannah was on the second floor balcony. Her hair had come loose from its braid and it hung lank over her bare chest. She had never retrieved her clothes from Alois’ room, and Claude was ashamed to note that he still found her body alluringly beautiful, despite his distain for her. But it was her expression that startled him. She was staring straight ahead, as though seeing something far away and invisible to anyone else. She looked otherworldly and mad, her breathing ragged and short, her body shaking uncontrollably. Claude realized, with a surge of dread, what was about to happen. He was already in motion as she threw herself headlong over the rail towards the ground below. As he raced towards her, faster than any human could run, he saw that this was no ploy to get attention or sympathy. She was making no effort to break her fall, and indeed had purposefully chosen to fall headfirst. She had no intention of walking away from her jump alive. He reached her just in time, kneeling on the floor and catching her gently. She opened her eyes and saw the second story balustrade above her. “No,” she moaned desperately, “No, no, no…”

Realizing who held her, her cries became even more despairing, and she turned her head away from him. “I’m sorry,” she sobbed, her voice ragged, “I’m sorry!”

She repeated the words over and over. He never moved from the place where he’d caught her and, as her voice finally died away, he said emotionlessly, “Tell me.”

She went very still. A few moments passed, and then she began to speak in a monotone.

“They were brought to me from outside the manor. His agents, his lackeys, delivered them here. The Earl had me bathe them, clothe them, give them something to eat if they were starving, though he said that he preferred them to be hungry. I had to make them into perfect little dolls for him. I didn’t want to, but I was so afraid. I was frightened of what he’d do to me, what he did to me every time I displeased him.”

She made as if to stop, but Claude repeated his command. She took a deep shuddering breath and continued haltingly, “If one of the…the children wasn’t dressed properly, or if he didn’t like any of them, he would take me to his private study and tie me to his desk. What he did then changed every time, but it was always loathsome, horrible, degrading. He’d leave me there until he tired of me. Sometimes he’d release me after only an hour. Sometimes he’d keep me there for days. The longest was two weeks. He would taunt me with food and water, forcing me to beg him, to do anything he commanded me to, just to keep from starving. I couldn’t help it. I was too desperate to stop his punishments to care. I knew what he was, knew what he would do to them, and I led those innocent children to him anyway. I just needed to keep him away from me…”

She fell silent, tears falling to the floor. Claude felt a horrible wrenching inside of him as he thought of her torture. Her memories and guilt hurt her as much as any mark the Earl had made on her body and, thanks to Alois, they were more painful now than they’d ever been before. He began to realize why she’d never tried to leave the house after the Earl died. Her shame at what she’d done made her stay and serve Alois, working herself to exhaustion for him, allowing herself to be abused by him. And Alois, being the monster that he was, took advantage of her remorse and tormented her for his own fiendish amusement, just like the Earl had. Thinking back on the scene in Alois’ bedroom, Claude became conscious of the fact that, for the first time, Alois had made a purely sexual attack on Hannah. He suspected that much of the panic he’d seen in her had been from memories of the Earl, and the knowledge of what Alois was now capable of doing to her. Just thinking about Alois made him hold her closer to his breast. All rage was forgotten; she’d suffered enough. He brushed a tendril of hair away from her face, then lifted her hand to his lips, kissing her fingertips with such tenderness that she stirred and turned towards him. She looked haunted, exhausted from crying and from the weight of the memories she’d been suppressing. She tried to turn away again, but he forced her to look at him. “Hannah,” he said quietly, “I forgive you.”

She struggled to break away from his gaze, but he wouldn’t let her -she needed to hear what he had to say, needed to believe him. “Hannah, you acted out of desperation. Your survival depended upon obeying the Earls commands. There was no way for you to stop him. You could never have helped the children escape, with all of the other servants and lackeys involved in his scheme. You would have been caught, and both you and the children would have been tortured or killed. And he would have relished every minute of it.“

He stopped and examined her closely. The haunted look remained, but it appeared that she’d heard what he’d said. She had not tried to turn away, at least. “Hannah, listen closely to me. The Earl delighted in manipulating peoples’ minds. He trapped you, forced you to betray your conscience again and again. He wanted you to feel guilty. He wanted you to feel responsible for the crimes he himself committed. It could have been any of the servants, but he forced you to prepare the children for him because he knew how much it would hurt you. The children he preferred were orphans, poor and starving. You came to his house as an orphan, abandoned by your family because they could no longer afford to keep you. He wanted you to watch as the children came to him, unsuspecting, and fell prey to him, just as you did.”

She flinched, and he remembered that she had never spoken to him about her childhood in the Earl’s house. Her reaction told him that he had guessed correctly, however, and he continued. “None of what happened was your fault. The Earl relished your guilt and self-loathing because he knew that you would never forgive yourself, that because of him you would suffer for the rest of your life. His aim was to keep you in pain long after he was gone.”

By now she was staring at him as she began to doubt, for the first time, the certainty of her guilt. He knew it would take time to convince her that she was not the corrupt, shameful person she considered herself to be. He stood slowly, and carefully set Hannah down on her feet. She looked dazed and vulnerable. “Hannah,” he said softly, ”Let me help you.” Impulsively, he reached his arms around her and drew her tightly to his chest. “I love you,” he whispered fiercely.

He’d never said it, never even thought it before, but he knew with absolute certainty that it was true. Her hand reached up to his face, and his gaze moved down to meet hers. It was as though a fire had been lit inside of her. She practically glowed with joy, wonder, and relief. “I love you too, Claude. I always have.”

He drew even closer, unable to stop staring at her, so transformed was she from the worn, harried person who had recounted her past. “Then perhaps what I told Alois was true all along. Will you make a contract with me, Hannah?” he asked, smiling crookedly.

She hesitated, trying to think back to the conversation in the bedroom. He spared her the trouble. “Hannah, will you marry me?”

He saw her response immediately, before she’d had a chance to say a word, and he kissed her, hard, his desire for her wiping out all other feelings. As they drew away from each other, Hannah smiled up at him and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Of course,” she whispered, and leaned against him, enjoying the warmth of his body against hers. As he held her, breathing in the scent of her hair, he felt a strange sensation. It was like a splinter being removed, and at the same time he felt the weight of his contract with Alois lessen just the tiniest bit. Suddenly realizing what the change meant, he laughed, then spun her around, kissing her deeply once more. He knew what part of the contract had disappeared: no matter how hard Alois tried, he would never be able to force Claude to harm Hannah. And Claude would never allow Alois, or anyone else, to hurt her again. In that moment, it didn’t matter that he was a demon and she, a human. All that mattered was that she was safe. And she was his.


End file.
